Back At Their House

The desert sun warms my face
Shambling upward on the trail
My lungs strain a little in the thin air. I wonder if I look pale
Getting down a race

With how long my wind will last
Our folks keep striding
He talks

And walks
She’s almost gliding
Can’t show it but feeling gassed

Determined to match their pace
Wondering how I got so frail
Blaming it on the altitude I pass it off refusing to fail
Wishing me back at their place

   -gl-